Brought to a Halt
by kalisin
Summary: When Harry leaves Draco alone on his twentythird birthday, Draco is rather disgruntled. When Harry also punches him in the face for a regular kiss, Draco knows something is wrong.
1. Chapter 1

UNO

Draco Malfoy absolutely adored birthday presents. Well, really, who doesn't, but Draco Malfoy _really_ loved getting birthday presents. Bad things happened on Christmas and other holidays, but the only surprises on his birthday were good ones, like the pony he got for his sixth birthday, or the Firebolt he got on his seventeenth birthday.

Or the present he got two years ago on his twenty-first birthday, when his boyfriend of sixteen months proposed.

Last year had been the lovely trip to the Caribbean for an entire month and, when married to a very in-demand Auror and DADA professor, a whole month of private, undisturbed canoodling was _very_ nice as a present.

So, with his history for birthdays, it was not with a little annoyance that Draco Malfoy settled down for bed on the eve of his twenty-third birthday in a nice, comfortable, silk-covered bed.

Alone.

Potter, that wanker, wouldn't stop being a wonder boy, so, as a result, his husband of a year and a half was going to sleep at ten-thirty on the eve of his birthday without anyone to warm him up. Or to wake him up when the nightmares started, as they invariably did when he slept alone.

Draco Malfoy was not happy with life.

Several hours later, Draco sat bolt upright with a strained gasp as he pulled himself from a familiar nightmare of the Battle of Hogwarts. Luckily he had managed to wake up before he got to the part where Gregory Goyle—no, he wasn't going to think about it. _I am going to take a Dreamless Sleep potion and go back to sleep._ Draco told his quaking innards firmly. _I _can_ and _will_ sleep this night through without Harry. I do _not_ need him to help me through this._

Draco stumbled out of bed and entered the majestic, marbled bathroom. He dug through the medicine cabinet, looking through his various potions. He seemed to be out of Dreamless Sleep. Draco looked around, considering whether they would have any in another part of the mansion at Godric's Hollow.

_Harry probably has some._ He thought to himself as he reached for his husband's cabinet. _He probably has something that will help me sleep, anyway. If I didn't know him better, I'd think he was a drug addict._ Draco smiled wryly as he opened Harry's cabinet to reveal row upon very neat row of little potion bottles in single dose amounts. Some of them were rather sketchy in nature; anyone other than the savior of the wizarding world would probably be under suspicion for having these, but everyone made allowances for the famous wizard.

Draco searched the rows for the distinctive purple potion but couldn't find any. How on earth did they both run out of the same potion at the same time when both were freakishly attentive to their supplies?

Draco sighed, but saw, in the back corner, the color he was looking for. He pulled it out, but noticed that the bottle wasn't labeled. He worked out the stopper and smelled the potion carefully: it smelled like Dreamless Sleep. He glanced around for a second potion, one that would limit the effect to six hours, and took both back to his bed. Waving his hand idly to put out the candle, he downed both potions in the dark.

_That's funny._ Draco thought to himself as the blackness descended. _That didn't taste like Dreamless Sleep._

Harry James Potter was so incredibly ready to hit someone that he was actually waiting for the Slytherins to walk into breakfast.

First, it had been finding Hermione and Ron making out in his bed, something that had apparently been going on since the middle of sixth year. Harry was happy for them, really, but he sort of wished they had gotten around to telling him that they were dating in the six months they had been together.

Then, Colin and Dennis Creevey had pounced on him and asked if they could take a picture of him with their little cousin, who was just starting this year. And, could he autograph the picture, too?

After that, McGonagall had walked up to him as he was heading out of the common room. "A word, Mr. Potter?" She said, motioning him to the side.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, sort of expecting this to have to do with Quidditch. Perhaps he had been made captain, as no one had been given the position yet.

"Mr. Potter, I am very sorry to inform you of this, but the headmaster feels that, because of the recent attacks from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it would be best if you didn't play Quidditch this year. I am very sorry, but your safety depends on you staying where you can be protected, and you won't have time anyway with all your extra lessons." McGonagall looked very saddened. "I am so terribly sorry, Harry, but it is for the best."

As she was speaking, Harry felt completely numb. At the last statement, a shock of resentment went through him and made the hair on his nape stand up. How _dare_ they tell him what was best for him? Hadn't they stuck him with the Dursleys for his entire life? Hadn't the headmaster thought he could be controlled by Voldemort? Hadn't he kept the prophecy from him long enough to kill Sirius?

Now, as he was waiting for the Slytherins to come in and help him get rid of his angry energy, he couldn't help glaring at everyone who walked by, with special concentration on the headmaster, who sat serenely in his place at the head table.

Harry noticed McGonagall hurrying in to talk to Dumbledore and knew, instinctively, that they were talking about him. _Point for Potter_. He thought bitterly as Dumbledore glanced up and motioned for him to approach the head table.

Harry couldn't help stomping there, though he tried not to look too childish, as the Slytherins were entering from the side door.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked shortly.

"Harry, I know you're angry about this, but you must understand that there are pressing reasons for this." Dumbledore began. Harry settled down for a long explanation that would only serve to make him feel guilty for not having already killed off the bastard that had marked his forehead.

Draco Malfoy awoke with an abrupt start to find himself in the hospital wing of Hogwart's School. Looking blankly around him, he struggled to remember what he had been doing to land himself back here, where he had so many memories of intense pain.

It was strange, but he didn't feel at all injured.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're finally awake! We were getting worried." Draco blinked as Poppy walked out of her office. He hadn't seen her in years, but she looked just the same as she had when he'd been in school.

"Yes, well… I don't actually know what happened." Draco said slowly. "The last thing I remember is going to bed last night."

"That's certainly a shame, because we have no idea what happened to you either. A prefect found you unconscious on the floor in your boxers, completely uninjured or hexed, as far as we were able to see. We couldn't wake you up physically or with magic."

"Huh." Draco said. "Well, I feel fine. Hungry, but fine. Can I go?"

"Well, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you, so I suppose so." Poppy said. "I had a house elf bring you some robes."

Draco nodded his thanks and changed into the student robes. He made a face at them and transfigured them into something a bit more… stylish. Dressed in leather pants and an open over-robe in black over a white shirt, he walked from the hospital wing towards the Great Hall. Judging by the sunlight streaming through the windows, it would be about time for breakfast.

_I wonder where Harry is._ He thought to himself. _I shall really have to withhold something important if he doesn't have a stupendous reason for leaving my side._

Draco walked into the Great Hall along with a group of Slytherins. _Funny,_ he thought with bemusement, _they look just like the second years from back in my school days._

He glanced around for Harry and saw him standing with his back turned, talking to the headmaster. The familiar raven locks seemed much shorter than usual. _Did he get his hair cut when he got back from India, or wherever he was going the day before my birthday?_ Draco suddenly realized that he couldn't remember when Harry had returned from that trip. Or, in fact, what had happened on his birthday.

_There is something wrong with me_. The blond thought to himself, reigning in his panic as he headed over to his husband. _Harry will help me sort this out._

Harry had apparently finished talking to Dumbledore, because he turned away and started towards the doors out of the Great Hall. Draco grabbed him as he moved past and gave him a hot, open mouthed kiss.

Harry didn't respond to the kiss. Draco pulled back, confused. The Great Hall had suddenly gotten very quiet.

"Harry?" Draco said. The green eyed boy didn't respond. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, Harry looked like he had just seen Draco run naked through the halls with "Gryffindor rocks" permanently tattooed across his chest.

Draco glanced around. The entire hall was looking at him like that. Even Snape had his jaw agape.

_Wait a second. Snape retired three years ago!_ Draco's attention was suddenly brought back to the boy in front of him when a speedy fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him off his feet and onto an unfortunate first year Hufflepuff.

The world wavered for a moment as Draco lay, stunned on top of the dazed Hufflepuff. There was extensive activity around him, but all he could think of at that moment was _What the bleedin' fuck was that?_

Hands suddenly were gripping his arms, hauling him to his feet. The Snape-that-was-supposed-to-have-retired was holding one arm, and Professor Vector had the other. McGonagall was yelling at Harry, who was looking mutinous.

Draco suddenly came back to himself and shoved the two teachers off him. Stepping around McGonagall, who was getting alarmingly red-faced, he faced his errant husband.

"Harry James Potter-Malfoy, what the flying fuck is wrong with you?" He said in a dangerously low voice that cut off the Transfiguration teacher.

"_Potter-Malfoy_?" Harry said incredulously. "Did you hit your head really hard or something? Do you realize that you just assaulted me with your _mouth_? And not in the usual way, either!"

Draco stared blankly at him and suddenly realized something. _Harry looked about seventeen years old._ This was not the face Draco was accustomed to seeing every day.

"Harry?" Draco said, voice quivering slightly. "What's going on?"

"That's what I want to fucking know!" Harry shouted, annoyed at the confused, almost vulnerable look on Malfoy's face.

"Language, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall broke in, obviously intending to rekindle her rant.

"I…I don't understand." Draco looked around, feeling disoriented. He looked at his godfather. "You… didn't you retire three years ago?"

Snape gave him a wary look. "What is the last thing you did before you came in here?"

"I woke up in the hospital wing. Poppy gave me student's robes, so I transfigured them to regular clothes." Draco replied, tugging at his stylish over robe.

"And before that?" Snape asked. The entire hall was still gawking quietly, obviously hoping that the drama would continue out in the open.

"I was…going to bed." Draco said slowly. "It was the night before my birthday, and I was pissed because Harry went to India that morning and I had to spend my birthday without him."

"Today is your seventeenth birthday." Snape told him. "What was that about Potter leaving?"

"He was—what?" Draco suddenly realized what his godfather had said. "No, it's my twenty-third birthday."

Snape exchanged a look with Dumbledore, who was standing quietly, watching them. Harry was staring at him with incredulity. _The ferret's finally gone 'round the bend!_ He thought to himself with equal parts amusement and alarm. _This could either be very good or very, very bad._

Draco was suddenly wishing he had stayed in bed. He would even welcome the nightmares, as long as his husband stopped eyeing him like a dangerous beast.

_The nightmares!_

"Wait! No, I went to bed, but I woke up with my nightmares and went looking for Dreamless Sleep! I was out, so I went through Harry's cabinet and found a vial that I thought was Dreamless Sleep and then a time limiting potion, only the Dreamless Sleep didn't taste right, and then I woke up in the hospital wing."

"You drank an unknown potion?" Snape said incredulously. "Have I taught you nothing in your six years here?"

"Well, it was Harry's, and I figured he wouldn't have anything dangerous lying about." Draco said defensively.

Harry and Snape snorted in unison before giving each other wary looks. "Malfoy, have you never noticed that I _always_ have dangerous things around me? I even had Tom Riddle's diary for a while!"

"Voldemort?" Draco said, startled. "Voldie had a diary?"

"_Voldie?_" Snape repeated, wide-eyed. The Great Hall was filled with shocked gasps and whispers.

Draco gave him a weird look. "You came up with the name, remember?"

"I did not!" Snape snapped harshly, giving him an offended glare.

At that moment, the doors in the Great Hall swung open to produce a large crowd of upper year Slytherins, with Draco Malfoy at the head.

_Draco Malfoy?_ Draco did a double take as he looked straight into the eyes of his seventeen year old face. There was a shocked silence as the two stared at each other.

Draco the Elder stepped forward slowly and stretched a tentative hand towards his double. Draco the Younger started and almost fell over when Draco the Elder touched him with a quivering finger.

Draco the Elder abruptly whirled around and faced Dumbledore. "Ok, what the _hell_ is going on?" He demanded, voice rather high pitched with panic. "Am I going crazy? I am Draco Malfoy, right? I'm not some Hufflepuff with a really strong Confundus or something because I really can't handle this right now." He began to hyperventilate slightly and wished that Harry would step forward and rub his shoulders like he usually did when Draco started to panic.

Both versions of Draco were staring wide eyed at Dumbledore, obviously hoping he would fix this cosmic mistake. There was a very pregnant silence in the Great Hall as the ancient man ruminated slowly over the facts.

"Uh…Draco?" A voice broke the silence. Both Draco's stiffened slightly, but the elder went a deathly white color.

Draco Malfoy-Potter turned around very, very slowly to face the speaker. There, with his usual confused face, stood Gregory Goyle, whom Draco hadn't seen since Greg's guts had been ripped out less than a foot from him during the final battle of the war.

There was a rather loud crash as Draco the Elder passed out cold on the Great Hall floor.

A/N- I am planning to finish my other fic (Chimera Luck), I just kind of got this idea and I went with it… ok, so I didn't want to finish my college essay…


	2. Dos

Dos

When Draco opened his blurry eyes, the first thing he saw was his lover's worried green eyes hovering over him. Draco tried to open his mouth to say something, but his jaw felt like it weighed a ton and his throat was decidedly too dry to speak.

"Here." Harry said softly as he carefully propped Draco's head up and gave him a sip of cool, refreshing water from the glass beside the bed.

Draco gave a short cough to clear his throat. "Harry? Where am I?"

"Our bedroom. I got worried after you wouldn't answer my firecall and came through to check on you." Harry helped him sit up. "What happened?"

"I have no idea."He said slowly."The last thing I remember is going to bed and then taking some Dreamless Sleep and then—hey! You hit me!" Draco gave him an outraged look.

"What? I did not!" Harry said, startled. "Well, I haven't for a while anyway, and it's not like you didn't hit me first that last time."

"No, not you." Draco stopped suddenly, feeling very confused. "Or maybe it was you?"

Harry gave him a wary look. "What else did you take with that Dreamless Sleep?"

Draco gave him a haughty glance. "I took a time limit potion. And I remember everything now. I kissed you in the Great Hall, only it wasn't you, it was you six years ago, and then you hit me, and then I came in, only it wasn't really me, and then Greg said something, and I passed out when I realized who it was, only it wasn't really."

Harry was now giving him the look one gives when the other person has been known to go into fits of savage violence. "Gregory Goyle is dead." He said softly, wanting to remind his husband without risking his balls in the process.

"I am not insane." Draco snapped, correctly interpreting his husband's wariness. "It was my seventeenth birthday, and Greg was still alive then. Quit looking at me like that!"

"Dray, you took a Dreamless Sleep, so logically you should not have had this dream. Are you sure you took the right potions? Because I have been trying to wake you up for about six hours now."

Draco rolled his eyes with exasperation. "I'm not some imbecilic Gryffindor, you know. It's not like I'd consume a strange potion."

"Maybe you took something else that changed the effect." Harry suggested carefully.

"I did not!" Draco said hotly. "I didn't have any Dreamless Sleep, so I took some of yours, and I took one of my time-limiting potions. Those were the only ones! You know, I do have a Potions Master as a godfather! You can hardly live around him your entire life without picking up some survival tips."

Harry had frozen. "You…you took _my _Dreamless Sleep?"

Draco nodded impatiently before opening his mouth to continue his rant.

"Draco, was it labeled Dreamless Sleep?" Harry cut him off before he could begin.

Draco heaved a sigh. "No, but it looked and smelled like it." Draco was suddenly struck with a fact he had forgotten. "It didn't taste right, though." He said very slowly. "It tasted sort of…lighter. Sweeter."

Harry racked his hands through his messy hair. "That wasn't Dreamless Sleep."

When Harry didn't appear to be more forthcoming, Draco asked impatiently, "Well, what was it then?" Harry was silent for a moment.

Finally, "It was a time potion."

Draco blinked. "Time travel isn't possible through an ingested potion."

Harry shook his head before putting his face in his hands. "It's not for traveling through time. It's to gain the effect of time. It's one of Severus's experimental potions, so we don't yet know how it reacts with other potions."

"Time's effect as in aging? Don't most people want to reverse time's effect? Why on earth would he create something that made people age?"

"It doesn't make you age, either." Harry was quiet again. "You know the expression, 'time heals all wounds?'"

"Y-es…" Draco said when his husband wasn't forthcoming.

"It was to help with nightmares when you weren't with me. The effect is to…distance me from the memories. It makes the nightmares more…normal rather than so gut wrenching."

Draco's head shot up. "Wait…you still have nightmares?" Harry nodded infinitesimally. "Why didn't you tell me?" Draco demanded angrily. "I wouldn't have gone to Spain for those two weeks!"

"I leave you alone all the time, much more than I should." Harry said quietly, fingers twisting the covers uncomfortably.

"But…but…Gods, you are such a Gryffindor!" Draco exploded, not quite sure how to express his anger. Draco had nightmares, sure enough, because no sane human could experience the things Draco had without nightmares. However, when Draco had nightmares, he felt fear and horror and disgust with himself and the Death Eaters. They were awful, and Draco wouldn't have wished them on anyone, but they were just nightmares.

Harry's nightmares, on the other hand, forced the man to feel every single blow and curse sent by Voldemort to anyone. Harry woke up with the physical memory of having his guts ripped out because Voldemort had inflicted that pain on Gregory Goyle. Harry's body shook for hours with the after effects of Cruciatus because he felt the curse whenever he saw Voldemort place it on Seamus Finnigan in his dream.

No one had been able to figure out why this was, though the theory was that the soul bond that Harry and Voldemort had had was probably the main cause. Even Snape, who had immediately assumed that Harry was making this phenomenon up, believed Harry after observing him one night. Dreamless Sleep was not terribly effective in shutting these down; the potion could reduce the frequency of the nightmares, but really strong ones broke through the effect of the drug.

The only thing that seemed to help Harry was having Draco there. Something about his husband calmed him; Harry had never had a nightmare with Draco in his bed. Draco hadn't ever had one either, which was why they slept together even in the middle of a raging fight. After their first major fight after the war, Harry had slammed out of the room and spent the night at Ron's. Harry's nightmare was so bad that night that he accidentally destroyed every piece of furniture in Ron's living room before Ron had managed to wake him. Draco hadn't been able to close his eyes without dreaming, either, and had instead resorted to lots and lots of tequila.

After that fight, they had come to the tacit agreement that no anger at each other was worth the agony of the dreams. When Harry had to go away, they both stocked up on Dreamless Sleep and made sure to fire talk before bed. Harry had stopped talking about nightmares, so Draco had assumed that they had tapered off. Draco hadn't been sure why Harry's had when his hadn't, but the Slytherin put it down to Harry's dunderheadedness about emotion.

Draco ignored the obvious hypocrisy of his thought. It had been Harry, after all, that had fallen in love first.

"Draco?" Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know I should have, but…" He broke off silently, and Draco understood immediately.

"You were ashamed."

Harry looked down. "I am the strongest wizard of our age, and I can't even handle a few night terrors. Even if they are…unusual."

Draco couldn't help rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, Potter, I don't know how the Sorting Hat even considered putting you anywhere besides Gryffindor. No other house has that martyr complex down quite so annoyingly."

Harry smacked his husband lightly on the arm. "Shut it, prat." Harry's smile dropped off his face. "Seriously, though, are you alright? Should I send for Severus to check you over?"

Draco shook his head. "I feel a bit groggy, but that is clearing up pretty nicely." He suddenly gave his husband a smirk. "You know what could help clear my head is a nice, hot, shower. One where I am all naked and soapy and _wet_."

Harry smirked right back at him. "Yeah, that would probably help you out. Shall I send a house elf to help wash your back?"

Draco growled and grabbed Harry by the collar. "I don't think that the elves are quite up to the job." He said before attacking the parted lips before him with the enthusiasm of a starving man presented with a gourmet meal.

Harry, as usual, was up for his husband's silent challenge and responded with just as much ferocity. He yanked the bedcovers off of Draco before sliding onto the bed to straddle his husband. Draco grabbed for his trouser buckle and ripped it open, yanking the zipper and the boxers down at the same time to plunge his hand inside. Harry stiffened with a gasping moan before pulling Draco's wrist off of his rock-hard erection. Pinning Draco's twisting arms to the pillow above the blonde's head, Harry leaned forward to suck a trail of love bites onto his husband's pale neck.

Draco gasped and bucked his hips up against Harry's thigh in an attempt to gain glorious friction. Harry, however, anticipated the move and lifted himself just out of reach. With a laugh at the disgruntled look on Draco's passion-flushed face, Harry half-carried, half-pulled Draco off the bed and into the spacious, white marbled bathroom.

Draco flicked his fingers at the shower to start the hot water as he concentrated on Harry's hot, swirling tongue. They tripped over the entrance of the shower and half fell under gush of hot water. It wasn't until that particular moment that Harry realized that he needed to remove the boxers from about his left foot and that he was still wearing a pair of wooly socks.

Draco gave him another Malfoy-smirk and went to his knees to finish divesting his husband of the troublesome garments. He paid more special attention to the hair roughened legs on the way down to the offending objects than truly necessary, though he skipped a certain essential region of Harry's body. Harry leaned against the shower wall as he lifted first one foot and then the other to allow his husband to remove his socks. Draco tossed them into the opposite corner of the voluminous shower before rising and sliding his body alongside Harry's. Harry grabbed Draco's arse like a starving man grabbing a ham sandwich and pulled the blonde harder against him.

Draco moaned at the sensation of Harry's hands kneading his bottom and was reaching for the creamy body wash that often had an alternative use when someone cleared their throat loudly just outside the shower.

Harry automatically shoved Draco and himself to the floor before even glancing at the intruder.

"There is no need for your theatrics, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Draco gave identical sighs of annoyance and frustration. "Severus, I have asked you time and again to _please_ knock before you enter. I almost think you enjoy catching us in extremely embarrassing positions." Harry said.

"I have no idea how you came up with such an idea." Snape said with his amused little sneer. "Why on earth would it amuse me to see grown men act like startled rabbits?"

"I have no idea." Draco said waspishly. "Perhaps you have a very unsatisfying home life?"

Snape smiled at that. "Get dressed. There has been a magical disturbance somewhere around or in this house. It set off my alarm wards twice, though I am surprised it didn't set off yours. I assumed you would take care of it the first time, but I came when I felt the second disturbance."

"Could he not have waited another ten minutes?" Harry grumbled under his breath.

"Only ten minutes, Mr. Potter?" Snape said with an eyebrow raised. "I really don't know what my godson sees in you."

Draco bit back a laugh at Harry's face. "We'll be out in a moment, Severus." He said. Draco made sure that his godfather had closed the door before pouncing on Harry. "Let's make this fast, then, eh?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, two clean, relaxed men emerged from the bathroom in fluffy bathrobes ready to figure out what was going on. Draco snagged his wand from under his pillow and followed Severus and Harry downstairs.

"The wards that went off were centered in the living room and kitchen, I think." Severus said. "Ready?"

The other two had wands at ready as Snape opened the door to the kitchen cautiously. It was empty, and undisturbed. Nothing had been moved since Draco had put away his dishes from dinner the night before. The three did careful scans of the room, but nothing magical was out of place either. There were no traces of recent spells or of magical creatures.

Harry led the way into the living room. There was nothing there either. Everything seemed entirely normal.

"Is it possible that your wards just malfunctioned?" Draco asked when they had finished their scan of the room.

"All at the same time? It seems unlikely." Severus answered.

"Perhaps only one malfunctioned but it set off the others in the area." Harry suggested. Severus pursed his lips.

"That is a possibility, but I don't like it."

Draco suddenly felt a wave of dizziness pass over him. He shook his head hard to clear it, but the ringing in his ears didn't fade.

"Draco?" Harry asked worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Draco put out a hand towards the wall to steady himself but missed and started to fall. He felt familiar hands grab him and pull him against a hard body.

"Draco?" Came a different voice, also familiar. "Can you hear me?"

Draco suddenly realized that he wasn't leaning against a firm body; he was lying on his back in a bed. The dizziness receded abruptly.

Draco opened his eyes to see Madam Pomfrey and Severus leaning over him with worried looks on their faces. "Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" The nurse asked him.

Draco looked around, confused, at the walls of the hospital wing. "Wh—Where… no, why the hell did you bring me to Hogwarts?" He asked his godfather. "I wasn't that ill, was I?"

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked, eyebrows drawing together in a look of confusion. "I did not bring you to Hogwarts."

"Well, then how did I get here from home? Did Harry bring me here?"

Snape and Madam Pomfrey exchanged looks. "Mr. Malfoy, why would you assume that Mr. Potter brought you here?"

Draco gave her an irritated look. "Spouses do generally take each other to the hospital when one collapses. Why wouldn't my husband have brought me to the hospital? My question is why he brought me here to Hogwarts rather than treating me himself or taking me to St. Mungo's."

"Your husband?" Madam Pomfrey and Snape gave each other another significant glance.

"Yes, my husband, and would you stop giving each other looks like that?"

"Mr. Malfoy, we are trying to understand what is wrong with you. Why do you—"

"Wrong with me? There's nothing wrong with me! Where is Harry? I want to speak to him."

"Draco—" Snape started.

"Where is my husband?" Draco all but yelled, starting to panic.

"Draco!" Snape shouted. Draco fell silent in surprise. "You are not married to Mr. Potter. You have never been married to Mr. Potter, and until just now, I would have thought such an idea would give you extreme nausea."

Draco stared at him blankly, blood draining from his face. There was complete silence in the room for a long time. Draco started to shake slightly. "I need to speak to him."

"I really don't think—"

"Please." Draco said, interrupting his godfather. "Please let me see him."

Snape stared at his godson. Draco Malfoy had never, in all the years Severus had known him, apologized without being forced into it. Lucius had been very thorough in teaching his son the pride and arrogance of a Malfoy.

"Alright." Snape said finally. He snapped his fingers imperiously and a house elf appeared with a pop. "Fetch Mr. Potter." He told the elf without breaking eye contact with the blonde Slytherin on the bed. The elf popped out of the room as quickly as she had appeared.

Barely two minutes later, there came a quiet knock on the doors of the hospital wing before they creaked open slowly.


	3. Tres

Tres

Harry Potter had no idea why the cringing house elf wanted him to go to the hospital wing, but he was less than a hundred meters from it, anyway. He pushed open the doors and poked his head inside cautiously.

"Do come in, Mr. Potter." Snape's irritated voice was easily recognizable. Harry suppressed a sigh of dismay and walked into the room.

Snape and Madam Pomfrey were standing beside a hospital bed that contained Draco Malfoy. Only…Malfoy looked a bit different than he usually did. Harry decided that it was the relieved, pleading look on his face.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked as he approached the bed carefully.

"Harry." Draco said very quietly. "Harry, what's going on?"

Harry looked at his enemy with surprise. "Since when do you call me 'Harry,' Malfoy? And what was that all about this morning?"

"I don't know." Draco said, looking desperate. "I think it has something to do with your time potion."

Snape made a small movement. "Time travel is impossible by potion."

"I know! It wasn't for time travel—I mean, you made it, so…" Draco cut off. "Or, you will make it. Or maybe this is a different reality? Harry never mentioned ever seeing me like this, and I would have remembered looking at myself, so maybe this is a parallel reality. Yes, that must be it."

Harry was, by this point, giving him very strange looks. Snape and Madam Pomfrey were exchanging worried glances as well. "Are you sure this is Draco Malfoy?" Snape said very softly to Madam Pomfrey. "No particularly strong Confundus? Glamours? Polyjuice?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "The only thing I can find is a trace of some sort of sedative and a few…erm…charms of a _personal_ nature."

Snape looked at her blankly. "Of a personal nature?"

"Yes…well, they are _stretching_ charms." She said, voice lowering at the word 'stretching.' Snape still looked blank. "Charms that were aimed at his backside."

The light dawned on him. "Oh. So Draco has a male lover."

"Yes." Madam Pomfrey glanced back at her patient, who was watching an increasingly uncomfortable Harry Potter very closely.

"Harry—Potter," Draco corrected himself as he saw the twinge of discomfort. "I know this is hard to believe, as I wouldn't have believed it myself, but in the future, we are friends and lovers and married and I know this is hard to accept but I really need you to stop looking at me like a leper." Draco was trying to hold back tears, as the idea of crying in front of anyone other than Harry was repulsive, but he couldn't quite succeed, and a single tear ran down his silver face. "Please." He whispered desperately.

Whether it was the tear or the desperate tone of voice, Draco didn't know, but something broke through Harry's suspicious guard. Harry stepped forward cautiously, and, obviously expecting to be rebuked, laid a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder.

The familiar, if unusually hesitant, touch broke through the tight hold Draco had placed on his confusion and outright terror and Draco promptly burst into tears. Harry snatched his hand back in alarm, obviously not expecting the deluge, but this action only served to make Draco cry harder. The blonde struggled to regain composure; Draco had no idea why the confusion of the day was making him cry so hard.

"Draco. Look at me." Snape said sharply. Draco reacted automatically, turning to face his godfather. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but you need to snap out of it long enough to tell us. Are you alright?"

"Um… I'll just go then, shall I?" Harry said, slowly backing away from the sobbing blonde.

"No! Please, I know you don't understand what's going on with me, but… just…" Malfoy suddenly shook his head hard. "Nevermind." He said, his voice stronger. "Sorry for freaking out, Potter."

Snape raised his eyebrows at the Muggle phrase but didn't say anything. Harry, relieved, waved off the apology and escaped from the room.

* * *

Snape was getting worried. Harry could tell by the white lines on either side of his mouth as the older man pursed his lips in a characteristic sneer. The fact that there were visible signs of agitation made Harry's gut contract in terror; Severus simply didn't show these sorts of emotions voluntarily.

"What do you think is wrong?" Harry almost whispered, his throat tight.

Severus straightened from his hover over Draco. "I have no idea. It's almost as though—" He hesitated. "Almost as though there's no one home. Like his soul has left the body."

Harry shuddered. "Why?" He fiddled absently with one of Draco's knickknacks from the bedside table. "The time potion shouldn't have been able to do this."

Severus thought for a moment. "The time limiting potion must have done something to it." He shook his head. "It doesn't make sense, though. The two should have clashed directly, so that they negated each other. Nothing in their ingredients should have reacted this way."

"Maybe it's Draco then? Perhaps he had a bad reaction to one of the ingredients?" Harry ventured cautiously. "He is allergic to guanabana seeds and South African horn root, after all. Perhaps he has more allergies than we've discovered."

Severus shook his head. "There is nothing wrong with his physically. An allergy should affect him physically."

"He's in a coma!" Harry shouted. "How is that not wrong physically? I would say that—"

Harry broke off as a cough came from the bed. Severus whirled towards Draco, reaching automatically to feel his temperature.

"What… Professor Snape?" Draco looked startled. And rather young, Harry suddenly observed. "Where am I?"

"At home, Draco. Are you feeling alright?" Severus checked his pupils as Draco tried to push him off.

"This doesn't look like Malfoy Manor."

Severus stopped poking at his godson in surprise. "No, I mean your home in Godric's Hollow. Yours and Harry's."

"Harry?" Draco said giving him a strange look. "Harry Potter?"

"Y-e-s." Severus said slowly. "Your husband?"

Draco snorted. "Not bloody likely."

"For over a year and a half now, actually, love." Harry finally found his voice amid his relief and confusion. "Don't you remember?"

Draco started as he saw Harry standing only a few feet from him. "What the bloody hell are you doing here? Get out!"

Harry gave him a blank look. "I beg your pardon?"

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Draco shouted, his pale face flushing with anger.

Harry looked with shock up at Severus then back to his furious husband. "Draco—"

"Severus, get him out of here! Why would you let him in here with me?"

"Because I assumed you would want your spouse here with you when you awoke." Severus replied, still rather confused. "Draco, can you tell me what day it is?"

"My birthday. Or the day after my birthday. I'm not sure what time it is." Draco said impatiently. "You're avoiding the major issue, which is Scarhead in my room."

Severus opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. "Draco, how old are you?"

"What? You gave me a birthday present this morning. You don't remember my age?" Draco looked rather wounded by this.

"Answer the question." Severus snapped out, voice harsh. Harry winced at the tone, as it brought back memories of a certain class in school.

"Seventeen, of course." Draco snapped back irately. "Now would you get Potter out of this room, or will I have to do it myself?"

* * *

Ok, so I am officially in college and finished with exams, graduation, etc, which means that i promise to stop being such a slacker and actually work on my stories with some regularity... i do havea job, unfortunately, so chapters won't be flowing as fast as i would want, but i do plan to finish both my stories as soon as possible... anyway, review on this one if you want to see a certain plot twist, because this one isn't as planned out as Chimera Luck, and i am open to suggestions...


	4. cuatro

Cuatro

Draco Malfoy was having an emotional breakdown. There was no denying that, as much as he wanted to, but luckily his years with Harry had helped him get over the whole aristocrats-never-show-emotion thing. However, his years with Harry weren't helping the other upset thing in his life—his stomach. Almost as soon as Pomfrey shoved a pepper-up potion down his throat ("Just in case, dear,") Draco felt the overwhelming urge to give it back to her. He struggled with his nausea for about a minute and a half before summoning the wastebasket hastily to his bed. When he was finished, he accepted the damp cloth from the nurse with a small smile before calmly handing it back to her and reaching for the waste basket again.

Snape gave him a startled look at that smile. The Malfoys had always been a little odd when it came to perfectly normal bodily functions like vomiting. Severus could remember Lucius' first hangover back in second year and the fact that the immaculate blonde had locked the entire dorm out of the bathrooms for hours in order to have complete privacy while he heaved. The fact that the young Malfoy was so unembarrassed about throwing up in front of people, especially when Severus knew how much of a privacy nut Draco was, confirmed the niggling suspicion in the back of Snape's formidable mind.

This was not the Draco he knew. Whether this was actually Draco or whether it was someone who just someone charmed to look like him, he wasn't sure, but he fully intended to find out.

When Draco finally managed to stop throwing up, he reached for the water beside his bed and rinsed his mouth out thoroughly with a grimace. The blonde looked up and caught his godfather's mysterious onyx gaze.

"Yes?" Draco prompted, voice scratchy.

"Where were you born?" Severus asked after a moment.

"What?" Draco gave him a startled look. "Paris, in a safe house near the French Ministry. Why?"

"And the child born in Malfoy Manor who was photographed?"

Draco gave him a quizzical look. "A muggle infant put under Imperious and a glamour. You know all this. Why are you acting like you aren't sure whether _I_ know this?"

"You're first act of magic?" Snape ignored Draco's question to examine his pupils.

"I lit my house elf on fire when she tried to make me eat some sort of disgusting vegetable. Severus, what in hellfire is wrong with you?"

"And on your fourteenth birthday, what did I give you?" Severus completely ignored the blonde's questions.

Draco was silent for a very long moment. "A subscription to a homoerotic magazine." He finally said, very softly, remembering the gift that had been his very first assurance that homosexuality wasn't evil.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a horrified look. "Severus, that is hardly an appropriate gift for a young boy!"

"I was fourteen." Draco said. "Boys need all sorts of inspiration at that age." He smirked at the woman's blush.

"Mr. Malfoy, I will not tolerate your cheek!" The nurse snapped before bustling away on some medical mission.

"So you _are_ Draco Malfoy." Snape said.

"Well, of course. Was that ever in question?" Draco gave him a puzzled look.

"There were two of you in the Great Hall. You asked for Potter when you were upset. That indicates either a massive psychological breakdown or massive magical intervention." Snape folded his arms across his chest. "What was that scene this morning with Potter about?"

"I was just saying hello." Draco said, feeling a little sullen. "I didn't realize he wasn't going to say it back."

"Why would you think that he would? You are hardly on kissing terms." Snape's forehead was crinkled with worry and a bit of disgust. "You do remember your history with Potter, yes?"

"Yes, but I thought that that's what it was. History." Draco sighed and ran his hands through his blonde hair. "I'm not sure what's going on, but this is not my world. In my world, Harry would have kissed me back, even in the middle of the Great Hall. In my world, we wouldn't have been in the Great Hall, because Harry wouldn't have left my side while I was in the hospital wing in the first place."

"Why were you in the hospital yesterday, anyway? Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing wrong with you." Snape asked curiously, studying Draco's strangely mature face closely.

"I woke up there." Draco replied. "I had assumed that something bad happened and Harry had taken me there—here—but I guess I was wrong. I went to look for him to yell at him for leaving me alone in here, and I found him in the Great Hall."

The two were silent for a long moment. "The potions you mentioned. Describe them for me."

"Well, the first was a simple time limiting potion. It was brewed to limit the Dreamless Sleep to six hours."

"Interesting. You said that you thought you were twenty-three? That would be exactly six years from now." Snape began to pace. "Now tell me about the unlabelled one. You thought it was Dreamless Sleep?"

"Yes." Draco leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "It was the right color and consistency, and it had the right smell, but it tasted a little off."

"Off how?" Snape narrowed his eyes. "How did it feel on your tongue? Any aftertaste?"

"It was a little sweeter than usual, but also a bit cinnamon-y. It coated my tongue a bit like milk does, and the aftertaste was unusually strong." Draco said, trying hard to remember.

"'Cinnamon-y?'" Snape asked with a pained look.

Draco smiled. "Harry's been horrible on my grammar."

"If you say so." Snape replied, trying not to think about Potter and his godson together. Now, tell me more about this potion."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry sat on the tile floor in the kitchen, back against the cabinets, as he waited for Snape to speak. The retired potions master sat at the kitchen table, turning a mug of strong coffee in his hands. The last few years had been good to the ex-spy, and the man had gained enough weight to no longer resemble the skeletal bat he had when Draco and Harry had been in school. His hair showed the stresses of the war in the long silvery streaks at his temples, but otherwise, the man generally looked younger than he had in years.

That afternoon, however, Severus Snape was feeling every one of his fifty-five years of age. He swirled the coffee in his mug one last time before plucking up the courage to break the silence. "I don't know what happened to our Draco, but the boy upstairs is definitely not him. That appears to be Draco at seventeen."

Harry tipped his head back against the wood. "Draco hated me for most of his seventeenth year."

"Yes." Snape said. The silence stretched out again.

"What do I do?" Harry whispered. "Where did my Draco go, and how do I get him back?"

"I don't know." Snape had to admit, hating the weakness in his voice. "This should not have been possible." The two were silent again.

Harry opened his mouth, about to thank Snape for coming to help him, when he heard Draco's footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up at the doorway as the younger, sullen-faced Draco came into the doorway.

"Oi, Potter, stop dirtying my floors and get the fuck out of my house." Draco spat, sneering at the brunette.

"_Your_ house?" Harry said startled. "I'm afraid this isn't actually your house, my small, bratty friend."

Draco opened his mouth to yell a stinging retort when Severus interrupted. "Draco, do shut up. I had forgotten how horrible you were before you'd grown up, and I do not like the reminder."

Draco stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish, before finally recovering enough to say, "You're defending _him_?"

"As hard as it is to believe, yes. You should watch your tongue when you don't understand a situation."

"But…but, Severus—" Draco began.

"Hush." Severus snapped. "I sent you to bed for a reason. I need to speak to Harry about what on earth we are going to do with you."

"What do you mean?" The blonde demanded. "Why is Potter here? I thought you were going to make him leave! I want the obnoxious scarhead out of my fucking house!"

"_Silencio_." Harry finally snapped out, not even bothering to reach for his wand. Draco gave him a shocked look before sending Severus a pleading one. "I am supposed to be India investigating some dark priest." Harry said, voice unnaturally calm. "I need to go tender my regrets to the aurors so that I can deal with the seventeen year old version of my husband. Can you handle him for an hour or so?"

Snape nodded, noting the wild look in Harry's green eyes. "I'll try to explain some of this to him." He offered, trying to calm the brunette down.

"Right." Harry said, getting to his feet. "I'll call Hermione on the way back, then." He stumbled towards the fireplace before flooing out quickly.

Severus turned back to the silenced Draco with his hands on his hips. "Alright, lad, for once in your miserable life, you will bite your tongue and do as I say. You are going to play nice with Harry, or I am going to string you up by your ankles with Filch's old chains. You will hang that way until either your head explodes or your feet fall off and not a second before." Snape removed the silencing spell with a flick of his wand. "Now, are you going to behave, or do I have to make good on my threat?"

Draco looked at him sullenly for a moment, obviously trying to gauge his seriousness, before grudgingly spitting out, "Fine."

"Thank Merlin. Harry would have killed me for getting blood on the carpet." Snape said, draining his coffee and standing up. "Come. Lets get you back to where you belong before one of us offs you."

Draco, thoroughly cowed, followed his godfather out of the room.

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so, i havent actually written as much as i planned to this summer, sorry... i've still got a week until i leave for college, so hopefully i can get the next Chimera Luck chapter before i skive off to what i have been told resembles an endless summer camp... i'm not sure whether that's good or bad, but we'll see, won't we?

Imaginary cookies to the several people who mentioned my profile...


	5. Cinco

Cinco

Snape was in his rooms, sipping thoughtfully from a glass of scotch, when he was interrupted by frantic knocking on his door. He glanced at the clock and sighed—it was nearly two in the morning. Severus sighed yet again and checked the wards for the identity of the intruder.

_Parkinson_. He thought with a flare of irritation. _The girl may look like a pug, but she's a spaniel at heart. Draco kicks her away and she comes back begging to be kicked again._

"What is it?" Snape snapped as he wrenched open the door.

Parkinson took a startled step back at his irritation but recovered fairly quickly. "Something's wrong with Draco." She said, blue eyes wide with fright. "He appeared and fell and was bleeding all over the common room. We tried to take him to the hospital wing, but he's yelling and won't let us touch him!"

"What?" Snape said, reaching for his dressing robe. "He was to stay the night in the hospital wing! How did he walk all the way to the common room without alerting Pomfrey to his absence?"

"Professor, he didn't walk in! He just appeared at the ceiling and he hit the stairs in the common room and he cracked his head, but he won't let us help him." She practically ran to keep up with his strides.

"He just _appeared_?" Snape said incredulously, heading towards the Slytherin common room at top speed.

"Yes, Sir. Almost like he apparated." Parkinson panted, breath forming clouds in the chilled air of the dungeons.

"You cannot apparate within Hogwarts grounds." Snape replied scathingly as they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "_Terminus Sanguineous_." He hissed at the stone wall.

The stone slid back to reveal the green and silver common room in a state of complete disarray. Draco Malfoy was yelling something incoherently, shirt covered in blood from a sluggishly bleeding gash on his head, as pillows and small objects blew around the room in a furious maelstrom. A seventh year boy cast a disarming spell towards the raving blonde, but Malfoy wasn't holding a wand and the magic only succeeded in exploding one of the couch cushions flying by. Snape irritably Vanished the resultant feathers before stunning his godson and taking control of the suddenly silent room.

"Everyone who isn't Draco Malfoy or bodily wounded will get him or herself to bed." He snapped at the students before levitating Draco's stunned body out of the common room and towards the Hospital Wing. "Ms. Parkinson, that includes you." Pansy hurried inside the common room and began to herd the younger students back towards the dormitories.

Madam Pomfrey came at a run as Severus slammed through the doors with Draco's body behind him. "My goodness!" She cried. "What on earth happened?"

"Unfortunately, I haven't the slightest idea." Snape told her as she took charge of her new patient. "How did he get out of the hospital wing without alerting you?"

"I—" She stopped suddenly before hurrying across the room and pulling aside some curtains. "He didn't." She said blankly, looking at the sedated face of Draco Malfoy. "He's still in his bed where I left him."

The two adults looked at each other before eyeing the two Draco Malfoy's lying in their respective beds. "Well." Snape said finally. "I suppose there's nothing to do about this until they both come around. I believe I should wake the Headmaster, Madame."

"Yes." Madam Pomfrey agreed. "I will get…the second one cleaned up, then."

* * *

"Interesting."

Snape waited, but Albus didn't seem to have anything more to say. "Well?" He finally demanded, irritated at the twinkling-eyed old man peering at the two sleeping blondes. "Which is Draco Malfoy?"

"As far as I can tell, they both are." Dumbledore responded, turning to the Potion's master with a pleasant smile. "There's no polyjuice or any glamours or transfigurations that I can sense."

Snape looked at the headmaster incredulously when it became evident that he was finished with his explanation. "And what should we do, then?" He finally prompted with an irritated hiss. "Lucius Malfoy will hardly be pleased when I tell him that his brat of a son has gone and cloned himself."

"Severus." The Headmaster admonished, eyes twinkling at his Potion's master. "Draco has been born into a family with unfortunate habits and loyalties, and it is hardly his fault that he has turned out like this. He is responsible only for how he changes now that he is out of the nest, so to speak."

"Then I hardly feel that I should guard my tongue." Snape said irritably. "The boy has been out of the nest for nearly seven years now and he has gotten worse rather than better."

"Well, we can only encourage that he change his attitudes, but ultimately it will have to be his own choice to grow up and join the rest of his year. I have a feeling that the war will not allow him to remain like this for much longer." Albus said, studying the twin pale faces lying on beds side-by-side.

"Allowing him to become as much of a sadist as the average Death Eater is hardly what I would call a superior situation, Albus." Severus snapped irritably.

"I'm not going to grow up a sadist, thank you very much." A cultured but groggy voice spoke up behind them. "I'll have you know that will receive an Order of Merlin, First Class, for my services in the war."

The two men turned hastily to see Draco the Elder levering himself into a seated position with effort. "You're supposed to be unconscious for several more hours, what with the dose of sleeping potion you took." Severus said as he stepped forward to examine Draco's pupils.

"I developed a bit of resistance to normal strength sleep potions." Draco replied, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table. "You made me stop taking them, and then Harry finally stopped dancing around and pounced on me, so I didn't need them anymore."

Severus shook his head. "I find it very difficult to believe that Mr. Potter would ever 'pounce' on you. It was my impression that you were ardent adversaries."

"Your alliteration never fails to irritate Harry." Draco responded with a smile. "And we were until we were—wait, am I still seventeen in this reality?"

"Yes." Albus answered. "You are lying to your right."

Draco looked over at his own sleeping face. "This is rather bizarre." Draco said. "Not quite as bad as that last time with Wormtail and the Polyjuice, but…" Draco trailed off, mind far off in unpleasant memories. He visibly shook himself out of it. "Anyhow, I was locked into the Order headquarters for a month with Harry as the only other permanent resident, and after the third time someone had to take one of us to Madam Pomfrey for our injuries, you told me that Harry had the power to see me out on the street and back in the clutches of Voldemort, and that any good Slytherin would realize that it was better to make an ally than an enemy." Draco shook his head. "Harry spit pumpkin juice all over me on accident the first time I said 'good morning' to him."

Severus wasn't sure whether to be shocked or impressed that Draco had—would—grow up enough to realize when to be on his best behavior.

"And how exactly did that end up with Potter-Malfoy hyphenated?" Snape asked as Dumbledore listened in silence to the fondly reminiscing voice of the blonde.

"Harry watched me like a hawk for the first week I was polite to him before he calmed down enough to realize that I had been scared into being on my best behavior." Draco took another sip of water. "It took another two weeks for him to be anything more than scrupulously polite, but by the second month of summer vacation, we were very cautious friends. He didn't let me walk up behind him, and I made sure to ward my door before I went to sleep, but we could joke about neutral topics like Quidditch teams and the Americans.

"I thought it was all going to end when Potter started training in the Auror program, as he was never around anymore except for the weekends, but the time apart was good for him, and he actually relaxed enough to talk to me about semi-personal subjects. I was about to go crazy cooped up in the house alone, though, so Harry started apparating home on the weeknights instead of staying wherever he was training. One night, right after he passed some level or another in training a full three months before his time, he came home drunk as the proverbial skunk, at which point he came to the startling conclusion that he thought I was quite fit." Draco shook his head and studied his younger self with a smile as he remembered that night.

_"You're drunk!" Draco had said, startled as Harry staggered into the living room in complete disarray and nearly fell over the edge of the Persian rug. _

_"Passed m-test." Harry said with a huge smile. "Thee-Three months early. I'm starting survival training on Monday."_

_"Which doesn't explain why you're falling all over yourself. Have you ever gotten pissed before? Have you ever even _had_ Firewhiskey before?" The blonde put down his book and leaned his elbows on his knees as he watched Harry try very carefully to pour the amber contents of the crystal decanter into a tumbler. When Harry overfilled the glass and nearly dropped both the decanter and the tumbler, Draco bit back a laugh, stood, and took the antique crystal away from the inebriated Gryffindor. "Are you certain you need any more of that tonight?"_

_Harry turned suddenly, whiskey sloshing down his hand onto the rug. Draco abruptly realized how close their faces were and took a careful step backwards towards the wall._

_"You have beautiful eyes." Harry said thoughtfully, gesturing with the glass and spilling more of the amber liquid onto the antique carpet. "I never liked them much, 'cuz they remined—reminded me of your father. Lucis—Lucius was grey and cold. His eyes, I mean. He was grey and cold too, though."_

_Draco raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. "Yes, Lucius was never much into rainbows and nifflers. Why don't I take that for you?" Draco reached for the whiskey, but Harry pulled it out of his reach with a scowl._

_"You're not either, though. Bows and nifflers, I mean. But your eyes are silver, not grey. I like silver." Harry took a step forward and leaned forward until his eyes, devoid of their trademark spectacles since the start of Auror training, were scarcely an inch from Draco's. Draco made the sudden observation that Harry had a thin ring of gold right around his irises that contrasted sharply with the emerald of the rest of his eye. _

_"Harry." Draco said calmly, firmly, determined to not allow an iota of emotion into his voice. "You are very drunk. Please try to think about whatever it is you are preparing to do."_

_Harry ignored him and stepped even closer, so that his body was flush against Draco's, pressing Draco back against the wall. Harry leaned forward more and Draco automatically closed his eyes, but he was surprised when Harry didn't touch his lips. Instead, Harry planted a surprisingly gentle kiss, considering his level of intoxication, on the tender, pale skin of Draco's closed eyelids. _

_Draco stood frozen, startled and disbelieving, as Harry's soft lips brushed featherlight kisses over his eyelids, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, before brushing once, twice, three times over Draco's slightly parted lips._

_Harry backed up as abruptly as he stepped forward, and Draco opened his eyes when he felt Harry move away. "Um…" Harry started, then stopped as he struggled for something to explain his drunken actions. _

_"Harry?" Draco said, an unexpected lump in his throat. _

_"Sorry." The brunette finally said. "I think I should probably go up to bed now. G'night, Draco."_

_Draco stood very still as Harry turned, set down the tumbler with exaggerated care on the coffee table, and walked unsteadily from the room and up the stairs. Draco didn't move until he heard Harry's bedroom door close on the third floor. _

_"Well, that was certainly unexpected." Draco said to the empty room as he picked up Harry's abandoned whiskey. "I don't suppose he's going to be able to so much as look at me tomorrow morning."_

Draco had been right about Harry not looking at him the next morning, but it wasn't for the reasons Draco had assumed it would be. Never having drunk before, Harry had never been introduced to the lifesaving Hangover-b-Gone potion, and thus could hardly roll over without wanting to shoot himself.

"Honestly, Potter." Draco had said, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh as he'd entered the bathroom to see Harry curled around the toilet on the bathroom. "Don't drink it if you can't hack it."

"I learned the proper method of casting _Avada Kedavra_ a few weeks ago." Harry had snapped. "I have been itching to practice it on something more than spiders."

Draco had laughed, and then cut it off when he had seen Harry flinch at the loud sound.

Harry still couldn't really hold his liquor, Draco thought fondly as he stared out the window of the Hospital Wing. He hadn't minded back then, as he'd gotten the opportunity to strip Harry to his skivvies almost every time Harry passed some landmark in training—always several months and eventually a year before everyone else.

It had taken almost another two years for Harry to own up to his desire, which had frustrated the hell out of Draco. Harry had to make the first move and make the relationship one of his goals, Draco had known, or he wouldn't have that indomitable determination to make things work. And Draco had known even then, long before he ever considered the word 'love,' that he wanted things between him and Harry to work.

* * *

"Where is he?" Harry shouted, stumbling from the living room fireplace in a cloud of ash.

"In your bedroom." Severus shouted back. "He's unconscious again!"

"What?" Harry said frantically. "I thought you said you couldn't find traces of the potion in his system! Shouldn't the effects be over?"

"Obviously not." Severus replied sardonically, watching as Harry worriedly smoothed back Draco's platinum hair.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. "The time potion has never done anything remotely like this to me. Why is this affecting him like this?"

"I have no idea." Severus admitted grudgingly. He had always hated to admit his ignorance. "I've gone over the formula for the potion, and he doesn't have any allergies to any of the ingredients. The mixture is not that dissimilar to many other potions that I know he has ingested without problems before, so as far as I can tell, the potion should not have this effect."

"What about a spell?" Harry asked.

"It would have triggered the alarms, but the spell would not have triggered the alarms every time Draco passed out or regressed."

Harry sat down, head in his hands. "Should we take him to St. Mungo's?"

"I doubt they could do anything more, though if he doesn't wake up soon, we will have to."

Harry nodded. They were silent for a moment, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room.

Finally, Harry sat up, eyes red. "I'll take care of him. I'll call you if anything changes."

Severus took it as the plea it was and left silently, leaving Harry to watch his husband for any sign of improvement.

Harry sat beside Draco's bed for hours watching him almost without blinking until Harry finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"You are a wanker."

Harry sat up very suddenly. "You're awake!" He exclaimed as Draco sat up in the bed looking decidedly normal.

"Yes, and you, Harry James Potter-Malfoy, are a wanker."

"Why do you say that?" Harry stood and felt Draco's forehead carefully.

"Because." Draco said indignantly. "You let me sob my eyes out in front of everyone and didn't even give me a hug."

"You cried—I did what? When?" Harry said, confused.

"And then I threw up in front of Severus and Poppy, and you know how much I hate throwing up in front of people."

"You threw up—what are you talking about?" Harry asked, looking worried. "I think I should call Snape."

"I'm almost positive that the vomiting incident is your fault, though I haven't precisely figured out how you did it. In any case, I now expect you to make it up to me."

"Make it up to you?"

"Yes."

Harry couldn't help but smile at him. "How exactly should I do that?"

"Get up here." Draco commanded. "I have a sudden problem that needs to be cared for _immediately_."

"You've been ill, so I really don't think—"

"Since when is it your job to think?" Draco asked with a smirk. "Now get up here and take off your pants.

"Draco—"

Harry's sentence was abruptly cut off when Draco reached out and cupped Harry's cock. He grabbed Harry's hand and placed it insistently on the belt before giving a squeeze with his first hand.

"Dra—mmm…"

"That's what I thought." Draco said as Harry's cock began to harden quickly. "I am extremely horny at present, and your incessant attempts at conversation will not be tolerated. Am I entirely clear?"

Harry undid the belt buckle and shed the pants. "You're certainly bossy today." He observed.

"And you're chatty." Draco sniped back and flung back the covers before hauling Harry onto the bed. Harry settled between Draco's legs and licked and bit his way down Draco's neck. Draco grabbed Harry's muscular hips and thrust up towards his lover, but Harry lifted away teasingly. "Stop that immediately." Draco ordered and pushed Harry to his back.

"Yes, sir." Harry replied, unable to hold back a laugh at Draco's imperious tone. The laugh was cut off very quickly as Draco sealed his mouth over Harry's, and for a while, the impulse to laugh was far beyond them both.

Sorry guys, i know i'm a horrible slacker...


	6. Seis

So, I haven't written anything in ages, and I apologize PROFUSELY for this fact. This isn't that long, but I didn't want anyone thinking that I've died and left everyone hanging...

Seis

"I do believe I told you to call me immediately upon his awakening." Severus said, sneering at the tangled bedcovers hiding the exhausted lovers.

There was a sleepy grunt as Draco burrowed deeper into Harry's arms before the words registered in their minds. Harry sat up with a gasp, wand pointed at the Potions Master's heart before his vision had even cleared.

"Please, Potter." Severus said, rolling his eyes. "I could have killed you while you slept if I was so inclined. _Do not_ get out from under those covers." He snapped at Draco as the blonde started to push the thin sheet aside. "I have already seen more of your…assets than I ever wished to.

Harry scowled. "Perhaps you should learn to knock before entering our bedroom."

"Severus, if you really want to join us, you should just ask." Draco said insolently.

"Draco!" Harry hissed, playing along. "Don't say that! You'll give the game away."

"My mirth can hardly be controlled. Truly, your wit is quite astounding." Snape said dryly.

"Thank you, Severus." Draco said cheekily. "Now, do tell me what you have come up with in regards to my mysterious ailment. What's wrong with me?"

"You seem to be having some sort of allergic reaction." Severus told him. "It is the only explanation I can offer. I do not know what the reaction is to, or how to fix it. I am hoping that it will simply disappear over time."

Draco gave him a disbelieving look. "You hope my time-traveling just fixes itself." He stated. "I think not. You are going to have to come up with something better than that."

"I am hardly Merlin." Severus said with irritation. "And it is hardly with pleasure that I inform you of my failure to understand this."

"But…But if you can't fix it, then what the hell am I going to do?" Draco climbed out of the bed, ignoring Severus' exasperated look, and began to pace, entirely oblivious to his state of undress. "I can't be flitting in and out of time unexpectedly. Not to mention the uncontrollable horniness every time I get back. What if Harry's not around when I return?"

"Why wouldn't I be around?" Harry demanded. "I'm hardly going to leave you on your own until this is all cleared up."

"What if it takes months?" Draco asked.

"Then it takes months." Harry said flatly. "I am not leaving you alone to deal with this. Work truly isn't that important."

Even after years of basking in Harry's love, it still gave Draco a tingly feeling of joy when Harry said things like that. Draco couldn't hold back the rather sappy smile that split his face. Severus heaved an impatient sigh.

"If you two are through reaffirming your love, could we please return to the issue at hand? Draco, you'll have to go to St. Mungo's."

"I will not!" The blonde snapped. "I hate the hospital."

"So bouncing around in time is more enjoyable, then?" Severus rolled his eyes yet again. "Stop being such a ninny. And you, Harry, don't even say it." Harry snapped his mouth closed. "Draco does, in fact, need to go to the hospital, and you will stop your incessant pampering this very moment."

Draco scowled at his godfather as he reached for Harry's dressing robe. "I happen to enjoy all that pampering, thanks so much."

"You have always been a spoiled brat, Draco, but I'm not going to stand for it if it means your life is compromised. Get out of bed, make yourself decent for public appearances, and I'll firecall St. Mungo's to tell them that we're on our way." When the two didn't immediately comply, he added a very threatening "_Move_."

"Why, Severus, I never knew you could be so _forceful_." Draco batted his eyes at his old professor.

"I will be returning in five minutes, and if you aren't dressed, you will be flooed to the hospital lobby as you are."

"Oooo, got an exhibitionist streak in there, do you?" Harry cooed at him.

Severus rolled his eyes, turned on his heel, and stalked from the room in classic overgrown-bat style.

* * *

"Severus? The second one's awake, but the first has vanished." Snape started almost imperceptibly at the sound of Madam Pomphrey's voice. "The young Draco's raising quite a fuss, so I'd appreciate it if you would find yourself in the hospital wing with alacrity."

"I am on my way." Severus responded, setting aside the potion's journals he had been pouring over. He knocked back the last dregs of scotch in his tumbler before sweeping in his usual fashion down the damp halls of Hogwarts.

Parkinson and Zabini were in the hospital wing when Severus arrived, both listening with smug amusement as Draco ranted and raved, his blonde locks sticking up in a manner rather reminiscent of a cockatiel.

"And then Potter said some shit about it being his house while _clearly_ I had decorated the bedroom, because one hardly thinks of stylish interior designing when one thinks of a Gryffindor git with clothes that the _Weasleys_ wouldn't even wear and then—"

"Mr. Malfoy, sit down and stop making such a racket!" Madam Pomphrey held her wand like a sword as she advanced on him. "If you don't let me examine you immediately, I will personally make sure that _walking_ will be an impossibility, much less _stylish interior design_!"

Draco paid her no heed but instead opened his mouth to let fly more vitriol. Severus cut him off before he could utter more idiocies. "Draco, do shut up and let the woman see to your continued good health."

Draco jumped and swung in the direction of his godfather, which gave Madam Pomphrey the second of stillness she needed to cast her first diagnostic spell.

"Well?" Severus asked when no information was forthcoming.

"He appears to be completely fine. Besides the gash on his head, of course, but that will be gone in an hour or two anyway."

"Does that mean I can leave?" Draco asked, perking up a bit.

Severus exchanged a long look with the nurse, who shrugged, clearly as stumped as he was. "I suppose." He said finally. "If you feel faint at all, or notice anything out of the ordinary, come to me or Madam Pomphrey _immediately_. Do you understand? _Immediately_."

"Yes, sir." Draco replied with a roll of his silvery eyes.

"You are dismissed."

Draco wasted no time at all in collecting his flunkies and slipping out of the room. Severus sighed and turned to Madam Pomphrey. "We must be missing something. People don't time travel or clone themselves or whatever they've done without reason."

Madam Pomphrey shrugged. "Perhaps not, but perhaps it deals with something that doesn't exist yet. It originated with the Draco of the future. It stands to reason that it was caused by something in the future. We may guess all we like, but it is my opinion that the only ones that can solve this puzzle are six years away."

* * *

"So, let's review, shall we?" Draco said as he paced the small examining room in his thin hospital gown. "I take a time limit potion that would theoretically make sure that I only slept for six hours."

"Yes." Harry responded. "And Severus examined the rest of the time limit potions from that particular batch. All were completely normal."

"I took a potion to imitate that effect of time on the mind. How long have you been taking that, by the way?"

"A little over three years, in some form or another. The first few versions had some uncomfortable side effects."

"Side effects such as…"

"Increased libido at very inappropriate moments. Odd food cravings, an increased sense of smell that got to be quite a problem. I started taking it about when Hermione found out she was pregnant for the first time, and Ron had quite a time telling me that I was acting like his pregnant girlfriend every time I'd turn green and have to leave a room. Couldn't stand the scent of sausage and bacon."

"You basically acted like a witch in her first trimester. Lovely image, that." Draco said with a smirk before going rather smug. "That's when you finally broke and came after me. The temptation finally got to be too much for you, eh?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's about when I was half-hard throughout all my Auror lessons, and Order meetings, and while I was eating breakfast, and every time I took a breath and smelled that damned vanilla shampoo you use."

"I am pretty hot, aren't I?" Draco said with a snicker. "But back to business. Took the potions, appeared in my pants at Hogwarts, woke up six years ago in the hospital wing. Nothing appeared to be wrong with me, so Madam Pomphrey let me go. I went to the Great Hall, where you punched me for kissing you, and I saw myself six years ago. I fainted and woke up back home with you."

"Where you pounced on me. Severus came and we checked for magical disturbances. We found nothing."

"I fainted again." Draco continued. "And I woke up in the hospital wing in my seventeenth year with Severus and Poppy interrogating me."

"Where was your young double at that time?" Harry asked curiously.

"No idea." Draco responded. "I panicked, wanted you, you weren't you, you left, and I threw up after Pomphrey forced me to take a potion. I had to convince Severus that I was me."

"Well, sometime in that period, young-Draco appeared here, and made an ass of himself." Harry narrated.

"When did he leave?" Draco asked. "Because he came into the hospital wing with a bloody something on his—my—head when I was sleeping. I woke up and told Severus about my life with you, and after that I went back to sleep. When I woke up again, it was with you in my twenty-third year."

"Just a few hours after he arrived. I feel asleep in a chair, and the real you woke me up for another round between the sheets."

The two were silent for a while as they digested the summary. Draco continued to pace, and Harry continued to admire the arse passing in front of his face.

"So, every time I return, I'm hard as a rock." Draco declared.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "That's hardly unusual. You usually wake up ready to start something."

"And other than a bit of dizziness and that one vomiting incident, I feel fine physically when I bounce around."

"Mm." Harry agreed, his attention still on Draco's previous statement.

"And Severus and Doctor Sweetcheeks think that I'm—"

"I'm sorry, what did you call him?" Harry demanded heatedly, his attention firmly back on Draco's face.

"Having an allergic reaction." Draco finished, ignoring Harry's outburst.

"Dr. Flecks looks like a constipated porcupine." Harry said flatly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry." Draco responded flippantly. "You've never seen a constipated porcupine, so you can hardly make such a comparison."

"I have a good imagination." Harry snapped. "And Dr. Porcupine definitely looks like he could use more fiber in his diet."

"Oh, certainly not." The dreamy voice behind them startled Draco into running into the exam table. "Fiber is just the sort of thing that attracts Squarts."

Draco rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He knew from long experience that it was easier to keep the peace in his house if he let Harry respond for the both of them to all of Luna Lovegood-Longbottom's ludicrous conversation starters.

"Er…Hi, Luna." Harry said, reverting suddenly to his somewhat awkward schoolboy demeanor. "What are you doing at St. Mungo's?"

"Visiting Neville's parents." She replied, fiddling with her enormous, peacock-feathered earrings. "What are _you_ doing here?" She fixed her eyes firmly on Draco.

"Draco's not feeling well." Harry replied. "Something about a new allergy that's causing spontaneous time travel."

"Oh, he's infected with Golimin." Luna said, nodding sagely as though the diagnosis was obvious. "Well, that's not easy to treat, but it will work out in the end anyway."

Draco pressed his lips together hard to restrain a rude comment at her expense. Harry doubted that Luna's hypothesis was any more accurate than usual, but he asked anyway, "What's…Golimin, was it?"

"I had it when I was pregnant with Wendell." Luna answered, closing the distance between her and Draco rather suddenly to peer intently into his silver eyes. "The child's allergies become distorted and expanded in the mother until half-way through the second trimester. That's when they start to become separate from you, you know." She sighed and patted her stomach, flat under the voluminous coverings of her yellow robes, and Draco gave Harry a look that fairly screamed _rescue me_. "That's when the Golimin goes away, but then the baby's vulnerable to boolas."

Harry reached for Draco's hand, pulled him into his lap, and decided not to ask about boolas.


End file.
